After two weeks of doing nothing but boozing in the UK I ended up in a Hong Kong hospital on suspicion of having the swine flu.

According to the airhostess I looked unwell. I told her that I’d had more pints in the last fortnight than Andre Rieu has CDs at the post office. That and the fact that I’d been put through some heavy emotional turmoil on my earlier flight after watching the delightful Marley & Me. That dog’s a real fighter! Now I’ve watched a lot of House and think I have the gist of the whole ‘medicine’ thing but unbeknown to me I had a fever. I was asked to leave the plane and told I’d be put in an ambulance and taken to hospital. I was. Thinking about having a real bed for a few hours I was actually quite excited by the prospect of hospital. The first few hours didn’t disappoint. Rice pudding for breakfast followed by the Cavs V the Magic in game 2 of the Eastern Conference finals on the box. That channel turned out to be the only English speaking one though and what proceeded the Basketball was some European version of Channel 10’s midday programming; Over and over and over again.

Ever imagined what it’s like to be shown through the 14 rooms of some ho’s house that won Eurovision? Or what it’s like to go to brunch with some goofball who used to play goalkeeper for Sheffield Wednesday? No? Me neither.

They kept me in what was almost a bubble. Nurses would come in and put shit into my ear and say ‘Oh, fever’ every now and again but that was it. Every meal was passed through a latch in the wall. I’m not a fan of what is perceived as ‘good’ Chinese food let alone what they give you in the hospital. They even had the nerve to dish out pork for dinner.

A doctor came in and asked if I’d been in contact with anyone with swine flu. Thought it had to be rhetorical. “Yeah guy. I really wanted to go see I Love You Man, but had no one to go with. I really didn’t want to take the Mexican kid staying at the hostel and he was coughing a lot now I think of it. We didn’t make out or anything though. Oh shit maybe I shouldn’t have held his hand.” Think sarcasm is lost on the Internet? Try a hospital in Hong Kong.

After the third consecutive meat/rice/boiled green shit they served me for a ‘meal’ I started losing it. I proceeded to mosh pit around my cell. Kicking things over. Buzzing the nurse constantly and then pretending I hadn’t. The scotch whiskey I’d picked up in Edinburgh was my saviour. Without it I’d be in prison for impaling a nurse I know it. After 36 hours they let me out. The next flight I could get on left in an hour. I didn’t have any Hong Kong dollars I told the nurse and the lovely lady produced several hundred for me for a taxi ride. I decided not to tell her to listen to Gang Green’s ‘Kill a Commie’ like I’d planned.

I had to make this flight. The next one left 6 hours later and went via Adelaide. I’d already seen hell that day; there was no fucking way I was going to Adelaide.

I got home and worked a 12-hour shift that day.